She who choose a path
by Peggieweg
Summary: A mysterious girl kills herself after being raped by her classmates. She is then later discovered in a boat floating by the island of berk. Hiccup saves her and brings her to the village healer where they try to heal her fatal wound and find out who she is and where she came from.
1. Chapter 1

**hey guys and girls! this is my fanfic of how to train your dragon. i know there isn't anything from how to train your dragon yet but chapter two im adding it. i know its horribly depressing and im sorry but it gets better. this is one of my first fanfics so feel free to give me advice and grammar stuff. and dont worry i havent forgotten to say her name you will find it out later on ;) well anyways i hope you enjoy!**

chapter 1

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"Have you ever paid yourself the compliment of not quitting?"

"Have you ever thought that maybe this isn't the right path?"

"What if it is?"

With all these paths, adventures, dreams, and hopes, cascading together. Careening through space and time; multiple universes calling home to your dreams, your happiness and your humanity. Yet through them all, the millions of paths to take, dreams to follow, choices to make, you have chosen this exact path, this straight arrow to a destination unknown."

"Is it right?"

"Is this what you wanted?"

The words tumbled from her mouth in garbled breaths and gulps. Tears ran down her frail face without notice and landed upon her shaking hands, creating tiny pools of cool water. She stared down at her hands, taking time to study each vein muscle and bone. The scars of her grievances stood out like red roses in a sea of white upon her wrists. The wounds had scabbed over on her skin but it was clear they were always there, a constant reminder, of the path she chose. Her tired eyes travelled upwards to study the wrinkles and rivets that inhabited her slender fingers, the tips of them were black from rubbing at the running eyeliner that surrounded her wide hazel eyes. Then upon her finger nails laid the chipped remains of the black nail polish that she had become accustomed to. She wore it every day, never having the energy to remove the black stains. They showed how she felt, broken, ugly and forgotten. It was almost as if they were a silent plea for help, unrecognized by even her. A silver tape recorder was grasped tightly in her palm. Its featureless face and black buttons looked almost as if it understood what was happening, why it was being used. A tiny red light blinked in the corner of the device, signaling that unlike many others it was listening to every word she uttered. "It's funny what you can see by just looking" she spoke quietly to herself, as she had many times before. "If you took the chance to look at anyone, to study them, you would realize they aren't what they seem." She continued to gaze down at her hands, the tiny rivers of salt water slowly decreasing, and then stopping altogether. "If you took the moment, the chance, to look at me, even stare, I don't care. I just want you to see how far I've floated away from reality, from life, from everything. I'm floating, flying even. I'm like a balloon I can only go so high before I pop; everyone else is kites, grasped in the hands of their loved ones who can hold them securely to the ground and protect them. They glide in beautiful arcs, travelling in many directions and at many speeds. Sometimes they may come colliding to the ground, losing a certain dream, but yet that person, that tether, always comes to make them fly once again. Where is my tether? I'm getting so close to the clouds, I can feel them, why isn't anyone pulling me back down? Why aren't they telling me its okay? That it never happened?" she choked in the sobbing as she buried her face into the recorder. Her long hair drifted forward, forming curtains around her face. The faded dirty blonde ends brushing against her thighs as she curled into a ball. She took several hurried breaths to calm her frightened heart. Then she spoke into the recorder, her voice barely raising above a whisper, "tonight, I'm taking a path, the path that I've been craving to take for so long but never had the courage to. With all these different paths and destinations, I know you are asking why I chose this, specific path. I will tell you why. It all started when I was thirteen. I was a freshman, like many others of my age group. I came to high school with a blurry past of absolute uselessness, I was nobody special, and I hadn't done anything notable. Many of those first weeks I spent with my head pressed against the cold brown surface of my school desk; ear buds always stuck in my ears listening to whatever took me away from reality. Many times the teachers would yell at me and scold me for listening to music while they blabbed about things that held no interest to me. The other girls with makeup and cosmetics plastered upon their faces like trophies would giggle their fake titters, their russet lips slithering back to reveal perfect straight teeth that only cost the fortune of a small house. All the while they waved their bleached and burned tresses back and forth in some outlandish mating ritual. The boys would watch the painted dolls with saliva dripping from their mouths, as if they were rearing wolves with the scent of a she-wolf in heat upon their noses. The wolves would take the dolls to some strange gathering, touching them and taking them away to be their own for the night. The dolls would drink it all up, literally. It disgusts me to even be near them, to even hear their tactless conversations and many 'conquests' as they put it. I wear makeup too, I'm not going to lie and say I don't, just so I can't be compared to the dolls. I do but there is a huge difference in the reason as to why I wear makeup. By lining my eyes with black kohl and putting foundation on my many blemishes, I feel like myself. I can look in the mirror, and see myself staring back. I don't do it to get 'conquests' I do it to show that unlike the dolls, I am myself."

"Maybe that's why they did it"

"The wolves in my class, they would always curl their gums into some sort of polluted smile whenever I walked in, wearing the unavoidably skimpy uniform that was mandatory for gym class. The routine was always the same, first stretching, then lessons, then the 3km run into the local trails around my school. Being the only non-doll in my class, I always maintained my distance from the dogs hoping the dolls and their strange antics would keep them busy. It worked every day until that Monday, that day, when the wolves decided I should join the dolls. It was the time to run in the trails and I waited my usual minute before running to make sure I wasn't running near the others. I didn't think they would wait for me. As I jogged by one of the large trunks that ran along the old trail, my headphones in and blasting. They hunted me and I was oblivious to the very last moment before one of the wolves tackled me to the ground. My face hit the gravel trail with a crash, instantly filling my mouth with dirt and scraping my face. I fought the wolf and struggled to get up but another wolf came and added his weight to the hunt. The first wolf, I call him jock because he was the size of a small car and had the typical blonde hair and blue eyes that dolls loved. The second wolf, I called Devil because of his red drugged up eyes and his stark black hair. Devil, out of the both of them was the worst. Jock had brute strength and had pinned me down as devil laughing manically, bound my hands and feet and stuck a dirty rag into my mouth. Jock then threw me over his shoulder and carried me deeper into the forest as I struggled against my bonds, screaming against the rag. Devil walked behind jock, his face level with mine as we went. He would occasionally lean forward whisper perverted comments into my ear, as jock smacked and fondled my rear. When we finally reached our destination, jock threw me down upon the forest floor. I felt a branch dig into my side and my head smashed against a rock. I saw stars while jock started to pull my pants down to my ankles, but stopped. His hands were trembling; he looked like a deer caught in the head lights. He didn't even get a chance to say anything before devil knocked him out of the way, sending him sprawling into a tree where he stayed and watched. Devil smiled manically and threw my pants away, taking no time to run his filthy hands up and down along my legs occasionally touching the place between my legs. I trembled and cried but there was no one to stop him. He quickly removed all my clothing, making fun of my flaws and fears. He straddled me and started sloppily kissing me, even though I bit and screamed at him. Then suddenly he got off of me and pulled a piece on fabric out of his pants pocket, he quickly came up to me and covered my eyes with it, whispering to me that I didn't want to see what was about to happen. I heard him walk away from my body, and say something to jock who didn't respond. Then I heard the sound of fabric rustling and suddenly my legs were forced open and he entered me. I screamed as the pain cascaded over my body, but he didn't stop, he kept forcing himself into me and moaning as he was enjoying himself. Then I felt the rag being removed from my mouth and I tried to scream but two meaty hands forced their way into my mouth, keeping it open and jock forced himself into my throat making me choke and gag. They both were inside my unwilling body and I could smell their stench and hear their moans of contempt. This continued for hours it seemed, there was no end to the pain and the humiliation. That was until I felt a hot sticky liquid on my stomach and not shortly after one on my face. I rolled over and puked in disgust, trembling in fear; then devil took the veil off my eyes. He said if you tell anyone about this I will do this to you a thousand more times, with knifes. Then he knocked me out and everything went black. I woke up an hour later, when the sun was setting. I struggled to move but my whole body was a blur of pain and torture. I eventually crawled over to my uniform, somehow managed to get it on, and then limped home."

"I never said a single word to anyone since then"

"I never told anyone what had happened, my drunken mother and absentee father wouldn't have cared anyway. I haven't gone back to school since then, I didn't have any friends who cared about me. I'd rather just stay here where none of the dogs can get me. That was a week ago and the bruises are still purple and swollen against my flesh. The scabs on my wrists still open and bleed if I bend the wrong way, but I don't feel it, I have felt a larger pain. So this is why I am going to die, right now"

She stared at the recorder blankly; there wasn't any doubt in her eyes. "This is the path I have chosen, given what shitty a life I've been given, I'm surprised I've lived this long. So goodbye potential paths, dreams, and adventures. I'm going to a place unknown where no one can touch me or push me down." She drew in a disgusted breath, "I still can't get that vile taste out of my mouth"

She gently pushed the stop button on the recorder, feeling as if her own heart stopped with the red light. She laid it down on the desk; her fingers gently tracing the silver casing forlornly. She pulled out a sticky note and wrote 'last words' on it in scribbled writing, then stuck it to the device. Not a single tear fell, she knew what she was doing, and she wanted this. Her hand drifted across the desk coming to a slow halt above the kitchen knife. She remembered using this knife to chop vegetables for her mother's soup when she got too drunk and couldn't feed herself. She had also used this knife to cut her wrists, it was sharp enough and it dug into the flesh almost painlessly quick. Her hand curled around the handle and she lifted it off the desk and brought it to her throat. "Maybe I should've said that bastards name on the tape" she sighed "whatever"

There was the noise of liquid splashing the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Here chapter 2, starting off with finally our gleaming human of glorious awkwardness that we all adore, hiccup. Sorry for not updating fast enough for my reviewer ;) but gaming and going inbetween parents houses is annoying, my cat seems to think that writing time is YOU MUST PET ME RIGHT NOW time and I don't have as much internet time to use for writing ( I game 247 pretty much). Also I only seem to get the motivation to write at 12:00 at night so yea, im a nocturnal writer. Anyways enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

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*please note this is a couple days after hiccup loses his foot*

Hiccup fell face-first into the dirt. His chest rose and fell in an inaudible sigh, as his hands feebly fisted the soil. The large trees around him swayed feebly, mocking him with their ability to stay upright. His light brown hair had sprawled out above his head like a halo, almost adding to the stupidity of it all. He rolled over slowly with a grunt of frustration, "take the cane, they said. You can't walk without it, they said. Well ill show them that I can! It's not like its maybe the ninth time I have fallen, or that they were right in anyway." He sat up, dejectedly rubbing the dirt from his face and looking around with his green eyes. He had stormed out angrily after his father had babied him up and around, hugging him at random intervals and saying how proud he was. He wouldn't have minded as much if literally the whole village had begun treating him like a child. It was nice to be noticed, but not in this way, he thought dejectedly, I still have some Viking pride in me. Toothless had followed him most of the way but after a while the dragon seemed to realize that hiccup wasn't hurt physically, and knowing there was nothing he could do, flew off. Hiccup had almost made it to the edge of Berk; the grass was lush from the water nearby, the sky was clear and a slight breeze wound it way across the island from the ocean. He looked down at his legs, cursing the stump and the 'mechanism' Gobber had made for him. Although it was a good, even great idea to add shocks to the prosthetic so hiccups new stump would hurt so much, it still made walking a challenge. He could just design a newer and better one; he thought to himself before moaning about the amount of work it would take. He struggled to his feet; falling on his butt twice before succeeding by leaning against a nearby tree. "Step one, get up" he said to himself "step two walk, it's just like how toothless learned to fly after losing his tail wing. If he can do it, I can do it." He drew in a big breath, trying to puff up his pathetically small figure, and lifted his foot. It stood in the air for a few moments in which hiccup gulped nervously. Then his foot moved forward and hit the ground, before his disabled leg collapsed and he went falling forward. His face fell right onto a rock, hitting his nose and making it spurt blood horribly. He quickly covered his nose and tried to stop the bleeding all the while swearing Nordic curses. Hiccup rolled to his left in agony; only to discover the edge of a hill, and despite his hurried, desperate grabbing at the grass and anything around him that would stop his descent; he rolled right down the hill. He began screaming as he fell, of course in situations like this when his pride was something unknown, he squealed like a Nordic woman whose skirt had been lifted. It felt like it was a good minute of falling that he had endured. Even though the journey was only a few seconds, Hiccups head was spinning and he didn't even notice the white and red scaled mass that had stopped his fall. He groaned pathetically, "just my luck, as if I haven't had enough harm already done to me. Thank you almighty god of hiccup hating" Hiccup threw his hands up in exasperation, and let them fall on either side of him. His left hand landed on something wet and slippery, he continued to gaze at the darkening sky, as he pondered just what his hand had landed on. His hand felt around only seeming to get wetter and the thing he was touching, colder. "I swear to god if this is dragon dung, I will personally freak out and never get near to dragons ever again." He closed his eyes, slowly turning his head to the left. A shiver wormed its way along his spine and through his body. 'what if it isn't dragon dung?' he suddenly became very scared, his left hand was trembling. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly, trying to make sense of the thing in front of him. It seemed to be a dragon, and his hand laid upon what seemed to be its wing. Its scales were completely white, with red patches; its wings were wrapped around its legs and head. He realized with a start that toothless could do the same thing. He crawled back a couple meters to look at the dragon, his clothes getting all muddy in the process. It was a night fury, it had to be hiccup thought, but night furies were black, not white. It had the same shape of the ears and tail as toothless, and it curled up exactly as toothless did; the only difference between the two was that this dragon was slightly smaller than his scaled friend. Hiccup slowly got to his feet, the pains of his prosthetic gone from his mind at this strange dragon. He walked slowly up to the dragon and reached out his left hand to touch it, but noticed that his hand was covered in what seemed like blood. 'It must be from my nose' he thought 'I didn't know I bled that much'. As he got closer to the dragon, he realized that the 'red patches' on the dragons scales, weren't red patches, and that the blood on his hand wasn't his own.

It was the dragon's blood.

Hiccup ran up to the dragon and desperately shook it, trying to wake it up; its only response was silence. He wound his hand around the bottom of one of its wings, trying to open it up so to say. Its wing was so heavy hiccup dropped it on the first try; he had to watch as its body jiggled horrifically, without movement. "No no no you can't be dead, dragons can't die this easily. Come on guy- er or girl please wake up! Please!" he reached down with frightened adrenaline and flipped its wing open; the dragon's tendons held it up, almost to help hiccup. He quickly pulled the other wing out of the way, and in the dimness of the setting sun, he laid eyes upon its white head; which had been tucked in under the wings.

Without a doubt, this was a night fury.

Hiccup gently touched its face, all adrenaline lost from his body, as he gazed in it's glazed over eyes. It irises seemed to be a dark blue, and they stared unmoving at the ground. He tore his eyes away from its dead gaze, sickened. The blood was thicker and fresher inside the embrace of the dragon's wings. The source of the blood seemed to be from the neck; he sparingly readied his hands and drew in an unsteady breath, feeling a surge of confidence. He gently lifted the dragons head and looked at its neck… or at least what was left of it. Several deep cuts had been made in the flesh of the dragon's neck; the scales ripped and torn, letting the blood flow freely. Hiccup started breathing labouredly; he had never seen a dragon hurt this bad, hell this dragon might even be dead. He drew his shaking hands away from its cold body, tears starting to make their way down his face. He had never met this dragon; he had never known its temperament, or how much fish it ate, or what its name was, and yet he still felt extreme pain. Dragons had been being murdered for centuries, but for him, who had befriended dragons and had saved them from murder, he was devastated. He frantically grabbed the dragons head, pulling it into his lap and cuddling it. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you" he sobbed, while gently stroking the dragons head. He gazed at its large eyes, realizing that its irises were not dark blue; instead a deep purple. He didn't even notice that the dragon's eyes had swiveled to meet his own gaze of pain. He rested his head on its head, "I'm so sorry". Then suddenly the dragon that hiccup had thought dead weakly lifted its head and lifted it off hiccups lap. Hiccup just sat there is stunned silence, his mouth hanging open and tears frozen halfway down his cheeks. The dragon, with the little strength it had wined in pain and jerkily rewrapped itself in its wings. There was a sigh from the dragon and then once again it was still as death.

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**I forgot about after story comment time last chapter… oops. Well whatever. Did you really think I'd let a dragon as cool as that be dead? Psh no. also for the random person out there no I'm not trying to be racist ok? It's just cool because night furies are supposed to be black so it's cool having a different colour, I could've made it pink for all I care. Anyways till next time, bye!**


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